The Lamp of Fate eBook

“Well, I’ll leave now—­as soon
as ever you like,” replied Magda, slipping down
from the bed. She was unwontedly meek, from which
Gillian judged that for once she felt herself unable
to cope with the situation she had created. “Will
you arrange it?”

Gillian shrugged her shoulders.

“I suppose so,” she returned resignedly.
“As usual, you break the crockery and someone
else has to sweep up the pieces.”

Magda bent down and kissed her.

“You’re such a dear, Gillyflower,”
she said with that impulsive, lovable charm of manner
which it was so difficult to resist. “Still”—­her
voice hardening a little—­“perhaps
there are a few odd bits that I’ll have to sweep
up myself.”

And she departed to her own room to complete her morning
toilette, leaving Gillian wondering rather anxiously
what she could have meant.

When, half an hour later, the two girls descended
for breakfast, Dan Storran was not visible. He
had gone off early to work, June explained, and Magda
experienced a sensation of distinct relief. She
had dreaded meeting Dan this morning. The mad,
bizarre scene of the night before, with sudden unleashing
of savage and ungoverned passions, had shaken even
her insouciant poise, though she was very far from
seeing it in its true proportions.

June received Gillian’s intimation that they
proposed leaving Stockleigh Farm that day without
comment. She was very quiet and self-contained,
and busied herself in making the necessary arrangements
for their departure, sending a boy into Ashencombe
to order the wagonette from the Crown and Bells to
take them to the station whilst she herself laboriously
made out the account that was owing. When she
presented the latter, with a perfectly composed and
business-like air, and proceeded conscientiously to
stamp and receipt it, no one could have guessed how
bitter a thing it was to her to accept Miss Vallincourt’s
money. Within herself she recognised that every
penny of it had been earned at the cost of her own
happiness.

But as she stood at the gate, watching the ancient
vehicle from the Crown and Bells bearing the London
visitors towards the station, a little quiver of hope
stirred in her heart. Early that morning Dan
himself had said to her before starting out to his
work: “Get those people away! They
must be out of the house before I come into it again.
Pay them a week’s money instead of notice if
necessary. We can afford it.” So it
was evident that he, too, had realised the danger of
their happiness—­hers and his—­if
Miss Vallincourt remained at Stockleigh any longer.

He did not come in till late in the evening, when
June was sitting in the lamplight, adding delicate
stitchery to some tiny garments upon which she was
at work. She hid them hastily at the sound of
his footsteps, substituting one of his own socks that
stood in need of repair. Not yet could she share
with him that wonderful secret joy which was hers.
There must be a clearer understanding between them
first. They must get back to where they were
before Miss Vallincourt came between them, so that
nothing might mar the sweetness of the telling.